The Lines We Never Cross
by thisislandgirl
Summary: Slash NickWarrick Lines began to blur as their bodies moved in tandem. Wrong became right and lust became love just as nothing outside the two of them existed any longer. That was until Nick felt it, that little gold band on Warrick’s left hand.
1. The Lines We Never Cross

**The Lines We Never Cross**

**Fandom/Pairing: **CSI/ Nick/Warrick

**Rating: NC-17**

**Prompt:** #16-Infidelity on my drabble table

**Warnings: M/M sex**

**Disclaimer:** Sadly enough, I don't own the rights to them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

**Summary: **Lines began to blur as their bodies moved in tandem. Wrong became right and lust became love just as nothing outside the two of them existed any longer. That was until Nick felt it, that little gold band on Warrick's left hand.

**The Lines We Never Cross**

He wasn't sure how it happened. One minute he and Warrick were screaming at each other in his living room. And the next . . . well that found him pinned up against the wall with Warrick's lips crushing against his. All the air was forced out his lungs, but he didn't mind. No he didn't mind at all, especially when Warrick's hands tugged his polo out of his jeans, skimming over the heated skin beneath.

He wasn't sure what had prompt the argument, but knowing his moods lately, it was something trivial. But at the moment he couldn't find it in himself to care, not when his shirt was pulled over his head and Warrick's warm, wet lips were traveling down his neck. It felt so good, like he was on fire, but he didn't have the breath in his lungs to vocalize it. He struggled for a moment, pulling his arms free and giving Warrick a gentle shove. It was just enough to break the connection of Warrick's lips to his skin, enough for him to be able to draw in a breath.

Warrick's body was still flush up against his, but he could feel the tense muscles and the straining erection pushing into his hip. He knew Warrick wanted this as badly as he did, but the look of guilt that flooded into those green eyes was like a knife to his gut. But the regret he heard in Warrick's voice was even worse. "Ah, shit Nick. I'm sorry- I wasn't thinking-"

Nick cut him off, shaking his head. He grabbed a fistful of Warrick's shirt and pulled him closer, until their faces were only inches apart. He opened his lips to speak, but no words came forth. Instead, he brought his eyes up and stared intently at those green eyes watching his every movement. And in those few seconds he tried to convey everything unspoken, his love, his anger, his acceptance, his need, but mostly, his want. His want for this to go further.

Then slowly, he pressed his lips to Warrick's again, this time with his hands free to roam; one dipping underneath the shirt to splay against sizzling flesh, and the other grounding itself on Warrick's neck, keeping the man as close as possible. Their lips moved in harmony to each other, Nick's parting to allow Warrick's questing tongue entrance. Nick slid his left leg up against Warrick's, hooking it around his hips so their groins were aligned, delighting in the moan he tore from both their throats.

Some where in the mix of denim grinding against denim, and tongue against tongue, they made their way to Nick's bedroom. Nick gasped as he was pushed back onto the mattress, Warrick not far behind him. His fingers made quick work to the buttons on Warrick's shirt, relishing in their victory by running up and down the muscular chest and over the rippling abs. But Nick's fingers were far behind in the race as Warrick was now tugging down his jeans, smirking at Nick before he eased the boxers down as well. That was the last thing he was aware of before those lips circled around his cock and sucked him deep.

Nick's hips bucked off the bed, his fingers tightening in Warrick's hair as he tried to go deeper. Warrick smiled and hummed around the cock, enjoying the incoherent moans he was able to pull from Nick's throat. Nick's head was tossed back, the cords of his neck straining out and begging for attention, his eyes closed and his lips parted and swollen, trying to drag in just a little more air. Nick's abs contracted as he moved, trying to increase the delicious friction around his cock, the muscles of his legs pulled taut as he fought for control.

Warrick kept one hand on Nick's hips, his tongue continuing its slow and pleasurable torture, and his other hand freed him of his jeans. Once he was free, he pulled his lips off Nick long enough to move the man farther up the bed. Nick blinked hard and groaned at the loss, but his lips cracked into a smile as he saw Warrick holding a condom and lube. He grabbed the condom out of Warrick's hands and slowly rolled it down over Warrick's cock, adding a little more pressure than need be just to draw out that hiss of pleasure.

Then his legs were wrapped around Warrick's hips drawing him down, inviting him in. When it looked like he was about to protest, Nick shook his head. "No, Rick. Now. Please now." Then he was filled. With one quick thrust Warrick sheathed himself completely until he and Nick were flush together. Nick groaned and tensed for a moment before he started to rock his hips, begging Warrick to move.

Lines began to blur as their bodies moved in tandem. Wrong became right and lust became love just as nothing outside the two of them existed any longer. That was until Nick felt it, that little gold band on Warrick's left hand. It felt cold and accusing as it pressed into Nick's skin where Warrick was holding his hips tightly. He froze completely, his body going rigid, but it wasn't with pleasure. It only took a moment for Warrick to notice.

"Nicky?" his voice was raspy and the words were little more than panted out, but the look in his eyes said it all. _Did I hurt you?_ But Nick couldn't move, couldn't think for a moment until Warrick brought his hand up to his cheek, the light from the hallway glinting off the gold ring for only a moment as the hand moved. Then there it was again, pressing against his cheek, mocking him, hissing words at him in the still silent room. 'Adulterer'.

He slammed his eyes shut, praying that when he opened them that it would all just be a dream, that the man laying on top of him, inside of him, wouldn't be there, or that that damn little band of gold would just disappear. But when he opened them again, all he saw was pure concern and love dripping from the emeralds above him. And when he pressed his eyes closed again, it was to hold back the sudden tears. Tonight he was going to be selfish. Married or not, he wanted Warrick, and he wanted him just like he had him. He couldn't dwell on right or wrong, wouldn't think of the consequences sure to come, didn't want to think of how long he'd desired to have Rick look at him the way he was right now. No. Tonight he wasn't gonna give a damn about anyone but himself.

With a stronger force than he thought, Nick rolled over, taking Warrick with him until he was on top of the other man, straddling his hips, bodies still connected. He opened his eyes and grinned down at Warrick, though he knew the tears were still visible. He leaned down and gently brushed his lips over Warrick's, barely any pressure but enough to let him know everything was all right.

Gathering his legs underneath him, Nick rose up and dropped back down, groaning as Warrick's cock filled him again, hitting that sweet spot buried deep. He rose again, but when Warrick's hands came up to grasp his hips, he caught them in mid-air. He shook his head before pinning them above Warrick's head, burying them beneath the pillows. He wasn't going to let it guilt-trip him again. Out of sight, out of mind.

Warrick's hips came up to meet him then, and he let go, moaning loudly, his face upturned towards the ceiling. He got lost in the rhythm, in the pleasure, in the throaty moans and gasps, in Warrick's eyes gazing up at him with _that _look. And he held that gaze as he rode Warrick, feeling the tension building, ever growing because neither wanted to let go just yet. But in the end it was Nick who would let go first, loosening his grip on Warrick's right hand to gain the needed friction on his cock. All it took was two pulls of Warrick's hand across his flesh and he was done, tumbling over the edge blindly, with Warrick not far behind him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on Warrick's chest, Warrick's arms wrapped around his waist, fingers drumming to the rhythm of the heartbeat pounding in his ear. He picked his head up and smirked at the dazed and sated look on Warrick's face, then slowly pulled the man out of him and slid off to the side. He sat there for a moment before he felt the bed shift. His heart sunk. Looking over his shoulder, he watched as Warrick stood up and pulled on his jeans, using a discarded towel to clean himself.

He didn't turn back around until he was buttoning his shirt. Nick just sat there in shock, eyes full of hurt and disappointment that was quickly masked. He quickly pulled the sheet around his waist, no longer comfortable being quite so exposed in front of the man. He leaned back against the headboard and feigned relaxation as Warrick sauntered over.

"I should go. Tina will be wondering where I am." Warrick stood there awkwardly for a moment, torn between staying and leaving when it was obvious what needed to be done.

Nick swallowed, trying to form words but in the end just nodded. He opened his eyes briefly when he heard the rustle of clothing growing fainter and watched as Warrick walked out of his room. And he sat there listening as the door was closed and locked. Listened as Warrick's truck was started and took off down the road. Sat there for twenty more minutes to assure himself that Warrick was really gone before he collapsed sideways onto his pillow, burying his face in it and letting those forbidden tears fall.


	2. What We Choose To Ignore

**What We Choose To Ignore**

**Fandom/Characters: **CSI/Nick, Warrick

**Rating: PG**

**Prompt: **#8-Denial

**Warning: **angst, sequel to "The Lines We Never Cross" - read first

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them, they belong to CBS.

**Summary:** He knew he should get up and get ready for work. He had cases to work, crime scenes to process, paperwork needing his attention, but the only thing that kept his interest was his pillow, an exotic scent, and a memory. So he pressed his face deeper, trying to ignore the painful pang of his heart . . .

**What We Choose To Ignore**

The tears had long ago dried on his pillow, the minutes and hours had ticked by, but still he could not close his eyes. He stared blankly at the door that Warrick had walked out of hours before, hoping and praying that maybe, if he kept watching, he'd see Warrick come back through, maybe he'd change his mind and come back to where Nick knew he belonged. In his arms.

The alarm clock ticked down the minutes until it began to buzz, but still Nick did not move. He knew he should get up and get ready for work. He had cases to work, crime scenes to process, paperwork needing his attention, but the only thing that kept his interest was his pillow, an exotic scent, and a memory. So he pressed his face deeper, trying to ignore the painful pang of his heart, and sighed deeply, his eyes slipping closed for a moment.

His cell phone ringing woke him twenty minutes later. Hitting the snooze on the still buzzing alarm, he fumbled around for his phone without even picking his head off the pillow. 'Grissom' blinked up at him from the display, and for a selfish, irrational moment he considered ignoring the call and crawling back under the covers. But as it always eventually happened, his good sense kicked in and he begrudging picked up.

"Stokes."

"Nick, I need you to come in early. Swing is backed up and they have a double homicide. I'm calling in Warrick as well. Can you meet him at the scene?"

Nick growled into the pillow, not wanting to let his boss in on his frustration. There was no niceties, no beating around the bush. Just 'can you go to this scene with your best friend, the guy you just slept with, the guy that broke your fucking heart?'. He closed his eyes and sighed again, only catching himself after he'd already done it.

"Nick? Is there a problem?"

"Nah. Everything's fine, Griss. Yeah, I'll meet Warrick at the scene." Nick rubbed his face as he listened to Grissom ramble off the directions and the pertinent information. When he was done, Nick slammed the cell shut and tossed it, not watching or caring where it landed. He'd find it soon enough.

Warrick snuck back into his house, quietly closing the door behind him. Toeing off his shoes, he dropped his bags by the table and snuck into the bedroom where Tina was already curled up underneath the blankets fast asleep. He had ignored her three calls and her voicemails as he sat in the park. He'd watched the sunrise and tried to sort out everything in his head. Like what had sparked the tension and how he and his best friend had ended up against he wall making out like randy teenagers.

But more importantly, he tried to work out the meaning of that last look Nick had cast him as he walked out the door. If he hadn't been glancing back he never would have caught it. It was an expression of loss and almost . . . hurt. That look had kept Warrick sitting in his truck in Nick's driveway trying to convince himself to go one way or another. He tried to tell himself that Nick was just his friend and that what had happened was born out of tension and frustration rather than lust and attraction. But the lie left a bitter taste in his mouth. And after two hours of sitting in Nick's driveway staring at the ring on his hand, he pulled onto the street and drove away.

He'd seen the note Tina had left on the counter for him. 'I didn't know you were working late so I left your plate in the fridge. Talk to ya in the morning. xoxo.' But even through message written with pen and paper he could feel her anger towards him. There would be no talking this morning. It'd be another fight. Where had he been? Why hadn't he called? So he ignored it along with his dinner plate, he wasn't hungry anyhow. And he climbed into bed, he and Tina staying on separate sides, the canyon between them ever growing.

His phone woke him a few hours later. Grissom; the only person that could get away with calling him after he'd only gone to bed three hours before. Well, one of the few people. He quickly silenced the ring so as not to wake Tina and stumbled out into the darkened living room.

"Brown."

"Warrick, I need you to come in and help out Swing. They're tapped out and a double just came in. Sorry to call you in so early, but I know I can count on you."

What could he say to that? 'No, sorry Griss I can't come in. I had a shitty night after making one of the best- no worst mistakes of my life.' Sighing, Warrick ran a hand through his hair and rummaged through the fridge for something to eat. He wasn't particularly hungry, but it looked like it was gonna be a long night and this may be the only chance he got.

"Yeah, it's cool. Am I solo on this?" Warrick briefly considered the plate Tina had made him but quickly shoved it aside, opting for his left over Chinese from the other night when Nick- not the thing to think about now he decided.

"No. I already called Nick. He'll meet you at the scene."

Warrick's stomach dropped. Nick? Couldn't it have been someone, anyone else? He cleared his throat long enough to ask for the address and end the conversation. He put the phone down on the counter next to the pad of paper he'd written his notes on and tried to clear his mind. His stomach turned, though whether it was at the thought of food or the inevitable upcoming confrontation, he knew not. Tossing the Chinese container in the trash just to be safe, Warrick headed for the bedroom to get dressed telling himself that it wasn't guilt he was suddenly feeling.

After twenty more minutes and a lot of thinking, Nick had almost talked himself out of his misery. Almost being the operative word. Almost because every time he thought of Warrick he remembered how those hands felt on him, how the body felt beneath him, how much he loved-. Nick abruptly stopped that train of thought. Sighing into the pillow Nick decided it would be easier to talk himself into getting up and getting a shower rather than talking himself out of love.

So after another ten minutes wasted, Nick pulled his tired, aching body out of his bed and stumbled for the shower. It wasn't as hot as he'd like, definitely not hot enough to erase the feeling of Warrick's hands running up his sides or to wash away the scent that clung heavily to his skin. So rather than try the impossible and waste more time, Nick stood under the spray, allowing it to cascade over him for a few minutes, just long enough to wash away yesterday's grime and sweat.

Climbing out of the shower, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and cringed. There, just underneath his collarbone, was a bruising patch of skin. He tried to deny how it came to be, thinking it was simply from when Warrick pushed him against the wall. It was easier, less painful to think it was born out of anger rather than in the midst of love. Only it wasn't love, it was lust or some weird perverted version of it. His fingers brushed over the mark for a moment before a few more tears leaked out his eyes. Hastily wiping them away, Nick stalked back into his room.

After rummaging around through his closet for some clean clothes, he searched for his phone. He found it in the hallway. Snatching it up along with his car keys from the counter and his spare gun from the cabinet, he placed them by his kit next to the door. The thought of food crossed his mind as he knew tonight would be non-stop. Throwing open the refrigerator revealed a dismal sight. A near empty milk carton, a few plates of long overdue leftovers, and a carton of Chinese from a few nights ago. Sighing at the sight, Nick decided to grab something on the way and headed out the door.

He was just entering the hotel when he saw Nick's truck pull up. Part of him wanted to wait for his friend and keep things as they had always been. But another part of him, the part that won over after seeing his friend, told him to go on ahead and avoid any possibility of a confrontation. Nick was too professional to say anything while in the presence of so many people. He also knew, however, that if they were in the parking lot, alone, that could spell disaster.

So it was with quick feet that he entered the hotel and ran up the stairs to the third floor. All the while Nick's face kept running over in his head. This time it wasn't that last look as he'd left Nick's house. No, this was what he looked like now. Nick looked horrible, even from just the brief glimpse he'd caught. His face was drawn and pale, dark circles hovering under bloodshot eyes. He'd wager almost anything that Nick hadn't caught a wink of sleep since he'd left. The laugh lines around his mouth and eyes were more pronounced and his brow was turned down in an almost frown. Nick was thinking, that much he knew. Thinking hard and trying to hide any emotions bubbling under the surface.

He'd barely made it up to the detective before the elevator dinged and Nick walked out. The knot in his stomach tightened tenfold as he recognized something else on Nick's face. He'd been crying recently. It wasn't something just anyone could pick out, just someone who'd been there and seen the man in his most desperate hours. The slightly glassy look and dark, clumped lashes gave him away. That was if one couldn't recognize the blaring look of despair barely concealed in those dark depths.

Warrick swallowed hard and turned back to the detective, trying hard to focus on the man's words. Did he want to wait for his partner? No. They'd catch up later, he was the primary. At least that's what he told them, and they didn't seem to care much. So after receiving the most pertinent information, he turned to head into the room, not missing the hurt expression on Nick's face at the lack of recognition. It killed him to keep a straight face and move on, but its what he had to do for the sake of them both.

When he arrived at the scene, Warrick was already there, talking with a few cops and the Swing shift detective. If Warrick noticed his presence, he never acknowledged it out right. He just thanked the detective and headed into the hotel room as Nick approached. And he never said a word either, not until Nick cleared his throat.

"Oh hey Nick." There was no emotion detectable in those words. No longing like Nick wished. No regret or anger like he'd feared. Just a blank tone masked with a false smile and friendly words. "I didn't know you were here yet. You wanna take photos while I swab?"

"Sure." That was the only word he could force out. Instead, he focused on his work and for a while it worked. It worked that is until Warrick forgot himself and came up behind Nick, placing his hand on Nick's shoulder. The urge to melt into that touch was near undeniable, but instead Nick feigned surprise and abruptly pulled away. He knew Warrick noticed the delay, but he needed the distance to be able to control himself.

"Whoa, sorry. You startled me. I didn't hear you." Nick's smile quivered just the slightest bit as he battled down emotions. Why was he so high-strung, so out of balance?

"Yeah, sorry about that." Warrick eyed him carefully for a moment, then cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I just said I think we're done here. Do you wanna grab a bite to eat before our regular shift starts? We have about an hour."

He should have said no, he had a million excuses of why he couldn't. 'I have some cases that need my attention.' 'I have a huge pile of paperwork to file.' 'I'm gonna catch up on a few z's before shift.' But the words that came out of his mouth were far different. "Sure. Let me just pack up my kit. I'll meet you at the diner."

The meal wasn't as awkward as he thought it might be, but it still wasn't filled with their usual banter Warrick noticed. Nick rarely met his gaze, and when he did there was some mysterious emotion just hovering beyond his reach. It was when he caught a glimpse of that look that his stomach started to twist and turn. He tried to tell himself that it was that Chinese he'd eaten this morning, only the carton was lying in the kitchen garbage can untouched.

Nick shoved the food around his plate, not able to force it down his throat. He'd barely gotten himself under control in the car and he was barely holding the mask in place. He could feel Warrick's piercing gaze on him, could feel those eyes boring into his, but he could never hold the gaze for long, fearing what Warrick would see. Every once and a while he thought he could see a brief flash of sorrow, guilt maybe, even a hint of love and concern. But they never stayed long enough for him to be certain.

Abruptly he pushed his plate aside and stood up, making an excuse of needing to get back to the lab. He tossed a few bills down on the table to cover his part of the tab, grabbed his coat and started to head for the door. But something gave him pause. Slowly, he turned his head and looked at Warrick.

The look Nick gave him wasn't long enough for him to read all those storming emotions, but he did catch a few of them. Then Nick was out the door and he was left there, lost. He pushed his plate aside, no longer able to deny the aching of his stomach, trying to tell himself it was indigestion from the food rather than guilt. And even though he knew the truth, knew just what had to happen, he denied it a little longer. He denied it because of a promise of commitment and a little gold band.


	3. What We Decide

**What We Decide**

**Fandom/Pairing: **CSI- Nick/Warrick

**Rating: PG-13**

**Prompt: **#5- Choices

**Warning: Adult themes (language and physical confrontations)**;sequel to "The Lines We Never Cross" and "What We Choose to Ignore"

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them. I'm not making money. I'm having fun.

**Summary: **He felt lost. But more than that, he finally felt the pain that Nick must have been feeling.

** O O O **

Nick sat in his truck a block from the diner, his head resting on the steering wheel, fists tightly clenched as he tried desperately to pull himself back together. He couldn't take those looks anymore, the ones Warrick was sending his way. Confusion. Denial. Love. Anger. Those green depths were a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, one never staying on the surface long enough for a decision to be made. So he had made the call, he'd decided which side of the fence he was gonna play on. He made the tough decision so Warrick wouldn't have to. He didn't want to be the cause of Warrick's rocky marriage taking the final plunge.

So he'd walked away. Walked out to his truck without any regret. He'd even started it up and pulled out into traffic, heading for the lab, when it hit him. He was blindsided so suddenly by it, like a sucker punch to the gut, that he had to pull over lest he cause an accident. The carefully put together mask shattered in an instant and he was left shaking and struggling to breathe through the sobs that tore through his chest. Somehow he'd made it safely into the parking lot of a grocery store, but that's as far as he'd gotten. He couldn't hold it back anymore, emotions too long pent up burst free, crashing, wave after wave upon him until there was nothing left. No tears, no sobs, not even an inkling of anger or sorrow. He was empty.

Swallowing hard he willed his hands to stop shaking and his breathing to even. He scrubbed the tear tracks off his face and took a deep breath before starting his truck. Surprisingly he was only a twenty minutes late for shift. Part of him wanted desperately just to call Grissom and plead sick, then go home and crash on the couch since the bed was no longer an option. But once again his good sense kicked in and as he approached the stop light, turned right, heading for the lab. With any kind of luck it would be slow and he wouldn't have to be anywhere near Warrick.

** O O O **

He sat for a few more minutes in the booth, stunned. He tried to go over what had just happened but he could come up with nothing that prompted Nick's actions. Well, he could think of one thing. And as much as he wanted to keep that skeleton hidden as far back as he could bury it, he knew that it needed to come out into the open. He was no longer able to deny that there was something between them. The last few looks Nick had sent him before he bolted out of the diner told him that.

There had been a look of longing, of pure, unbridled desire. That was the look he'd seen on Nick's face when they'd 'argued' at Nick's house. It was intimate and beautiful and Warrick had the fortune of seeing that rare side of him. He'd also seen hurt that night. And it pricked like a barb beneath his skin that he was the one to put that look in those soft eyes. And it hurt even worse to know he could have taken that look away with a word or a touch, yet he'd been too afraid to do so. And Nick's eyes held truth. For once everything he was feeling was written for the world to see. He put it all on the line, exposed his heart only to have Warrick stomp on it.

Sighing, he hung his head in his hands. He stared down into his coffee mug, but what he saw was Nick and that last little look. His brow crinkled in determination, his eyes slightly glassy with the promise of on-coming tears. He could clearly see that last message, a look of defeat taking prominence over pretty much every other readable expression, except one. And that one was what scared Warrick the most.

He'd seen love there. But it wasn't the brotherly love he'd convinced himself it was all those years ago. No, he could no longer deny that Nick loved him, loved him enough to be used and not say a damn word about it. Nick loved him enough to be kicked to the curb for a woman Warrick hardly knew and barely loved. Nick loved him enough to take the decision out of his hands. And Nick loved him enough to try and force hate and anger into his eyes just to make it a little easier on Warrick, even though they both knew those emotions were entirely false.

If he hadn't been in a public place, Warrick would have smacked himself outright. But he had to settle for a mental beating instead, hoping it would do the job. How could he have been so stupid? He'd had everything he ever wanted right in his arms, numerous times he sarcastically reminded himself. And yet he'd let his pride, his damn ego, get in the way. Too many times had he let Nick down, let himself down. But he was determined that there wasn't going to be another. He didn't care how long it would take, how far he'd have to run, the number of hoops he'd have to jump through, he was going to talk with Nick Stokes. But not only was he going to talk, he was going to make the man listen. He was going to make Nick understand once and for all where he stood, married or not.

** O O O **

He wasn't sure whether it was karma or good judgment on Grissom's part, but he hadn't seen Nick all night. Okay, well he'd seen him but never had the opportunity to talk with him. And given Nick's attitude toward him, he was beginning to think he was gonna be making another trip to Nick's house after shift. At least in private they could scream at each other, holding nothing back until this was cleared up. Here at the lab they had to talk cryptically and key down their emotions.

When he'd arrived at the lab at the beginning of shift, he'd taken his time in the locker room to get ready. He thought Nick was already there, so he was running things over in his head, like how he was going to get Nick to at least be civil with him, while he loaded and checked his gun. And he tried to think of how he was going to tell Nick his decision while he idly toyed with some of the equipment in his case. Warrick was paying very little attention to anything really, especially to Greg and Sara chatting by their lockers. That was, he'd paid them no mind until one of them called out a greeting to Nick.

Warrick's head snapped up to look at the man standing in the doorway. His blood froze at the sight of Nick. If he thought the man looked bad at the scene, he looked ten times worse now. His eyes even more blood shot with faintly visible tear tracks running down his cheeks. He looked as if he'd just tried to wipe them away before entering the building. And that's when Warrick realized that Nick was late, 48 minutes late to be exact. Guilt once again flooded over him as he realized that he was the reason Nick looked they way he did and was the reason the man was late for work.

He nodded a weak greeting at his partner while he tried to reshuffle his mind. He'd expected pain and resentment to radiate from the man. But he'd never expected the anger that seemed to come off him in waves. Even Sara and Greg sensed the tension as their chatting nearly died on their lips. With two quiet snicks of their lockers, they were out of there. Warrick barely noticed. He was focused on Nick who was now shuffling through his bag searching for a new shirt.

"Nick, I-" but the piercing gaze he got stopped him in his tracks. He stood up and quietly moved behind his friend. "Listen, I wanted to apologize for what happened-"

Nick tossed his bag in his locker, not even bothering to change. He turned to face Warrick for a moment, eyes smoldering with anger. But just below the surface . . . was pain. So maybe anger was easier for Nick to deal with than pain, or maybe it was an easier mask to keep up in public. Whatever it was, Warrick knew that no matter what he did, Nick could never be truly this mad with him. At least he hoped.

So he let his placating hand fall to his side and the apology die on his lips. He'd give Nick his space; he'd give him until the end of shift to get himself in order. But then they were talking. They'd hash this out if it was the last thing Warrick did as a living man. He backed off, watching as Nick turned on his heel and stalked out of the locker room, nearly bowling Catherine over in the process. He never even took his gun Warrick noticed belatedly.

"Whoa! What's his deal?" Catherine, after clearing out of Nick's path, stepped into the locker room. She could clearly see the look of defeat on Warrick's face and put a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Something wrong between you two?"

Warrick smirked. If only she knew! "Yeah, we had it out at a scene this afternoon. Guess he's still pissed at me." He tried to shrug it off, tried to take it in stride like he normally would, but he suddenly didn't have the energy to do so. So instead, he turned to Nick's locker, using the combination he knew by heart to get in and grab his partner's gun. Sure, Nick may be mad at him, but there was no reason for him to forget himself and go off to a scene half-cocked. There'd be no decision left to make if Nick got himself killed.

When he walked into the break room, he walked straight to Nick, trying to act nonchalant when he handed the man his gun. Nick did his best to glare daggers at him before he slammed the weapon onto the table, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair as if everything were fine in the world. Immediately everyone was aware of the tension between the two. Even Grissom eyed them for a moment before turning back to the assignment slips.

He thought he knew the reaction he'd get, but decided to give it a go anyway. He slid the chair next to Nick out and went to sit down next to him. The reaction he guessed couldn't have been more wrong. Nick growled deeply in his throat as he shoved his chair back and stalked over to the sink. He made a show of getting coffee as he once again had all eyes on him and his strange behavior. But no one questioned him about it.

Grissom sent them to opposite ends of the strip on different calls and they'd only passed in the halls twice, once on the way to the morgue and once on the way to the break room. Other than that, Warrick hadn't seen nor heard anything from the man. Until now that was. Nick was sitting in front of his locker, fingers idly toying with the clip on his keychain as Warrick entered.

** O O O **

Nick had waited until everyone else had vacated the locker room before he slumped down on the bench. He thought portraying anger would be easier than trying to act normal. But he was wrong. His reactions were true at first. He was pissed off the Warrick had tried to apologize, had tried to smooth things over after everything that had happened. And he was pissed that Warrick had acted like his father instead of his best friend when he came into the break room and handed him his gun. Or maybe it was the fact, Nick realized, that Warrick was suddenly paying attention to his every detail that had his blood raging. Whatever it was, he'd had to keep it up even when Warrick tried to sit next to him, especially because that's all he wanted.

When Warrick passed him going to the morgue, he'd given him the cold shoulder, looking through the file in his hands rather than his friend's face. It was hard to keep up the pretense when the hurt returned. Then when Warrick had tried to flag him down outside the break room it was even harder as all he wanted to do was act like nothing had happened.

So he sat in the locker room, fiddling with his key chain and trying to decide what to do. He knew that if he stayed here any longer he'd eventually run into Rick again. But it was a chance he was gonna have to take because at the moment he didn't have the energy to move. And a few minutes later, that's exactly what happened.

"Hey Nick." Warrick's voice was unusually subdued as he walked to his locker. He all but threw himself down onto the bench but made no move to open his locker. In his head he was running over what he wanted to say. And as much as he wanted to glance over to Nick and check up on him, he didn't. He knew that would throw everything out the window. "You wanna catch some breakfast?"

Nick's jaw tightened at the invitation, though whether it was to keep the tears or the screams in, he wasn't quite sure. Just like he wasn't sure what to feel when Warrick was suddenly sitting next to him, his hand cupping the back of his neck. Nick wanted desperately to lean back into Rick's warmth, letting it ease the tension in his sore muscles. Instead he pulled away, standing up and pretending to look for something in his bag instead. The heavy sigh that Warrick let out nearly tore him to shreds but he held his ground, doing his best to ignore the man's presence.

"Nick, we have to talk about this man." He wasn't mad at Nick. He understood why Nick was doing this. But when he was met with silence, he couldn't control the anger that suddenly bubbled through him. Pulling himself up from the bench, he turned and slammed his fist into his locker. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nick freeze but whatever emotions came forth were quickly masked as he once again packed up his stuff.

He hated that he did it, and regretted it every second after the fact, but in that moment of anger he never thought about the consequences. Warrick grabbed Nick by his shoulders and shoved him roughly against the lockers, pinning him there in a bruising grip. He'd also never thought about the fact that Nick was a cop once and could easily turn the situation around. Which is exactly what he did when he used one hand to knock Warrick's hand off his shoulder as the other fist came up and caught Warrick in the jaw.

Warrick stumbled back a step more in shock that the force of the blow. He just stared at Nick for a moment, unable to completely comprehend how it had escalated to this. "What the fuck is your problem man?!"

"What's my problem? What's your problem Rick?!" Nick stepped closer to Warrick, giving the man a little shove with each word until he had Warrick backed up against the lockers. "What right to do you have to act like my fuckin' guardian angel, making me look like a fool in front of the team?! What right to you have to come in here acting like everything is good between us when you damn well know its not! Who the hell are you to shove me around because you can't take what you dish out?!"

By now, Nick was red in the face, his breathing harsh as he got within a few inches of Warrick's face. Though he was shorter, Nick stretched to his full height, making sure they were eye to eye. And he never wavered, never backed down an inch as he kept one hand firmly planted on Warrick's chest.

It took a minute Warrick to re-collect himself. Nick had hit him and suddenly all his anger was gone. He felt lost. But more than that, he finally felt the pain that Nick must have been feeling. He swallowed thickly as he slumped back against the lockers. "Nick," he shook his head, not exactly sure what to say anymore. "I'm sorry." He dared to look into those raging brown eyes, knowing he deserved everything that Nick could possibly throw at him and more. "I just want to work this out. I want-"

"No Rick." Nick grabbed Warrick's left wrist, bring the hand between their faces so Warrick could see what had been haunting Nick since that first night. A little gold band. "You made your decision Rick. I hope you can live with it."

_TBC with Prompt #6- Consequences_

_Thanks for reading, please comment!_


	4. What We Must Live With

**What We Must Live With**

**Fandom/Pairing: **CSI- Nick/Warrick

**Rating: PG-13**

**Prompt: **#6- Consequences

**Warning:** alcohol and language use; minor slash make-out session

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own CSI or the characters or anything affiliated with them.

**Summary: **He wouldn't be ignoring every call to his cell phone. He wouldn't feel the sting of tears in his eyes at the thought of losing this beautiful man forever.

**What We Must Live With**

_You made your decision Rick. I hope you can live with it._

Warrick slammed his hand down on his steering wheel for what had to be the tenth time in so many minutes. He was angry, no he was pissed because damn it! Nick was right. He had made his decision but it wasn't what Nick thought it to be. If he had chosen his shitty marriage over the bliss he'd found with Nick, he wouldn't be speeding to the man's house right now. He wouldn't be ignoring every call to his cell phone. He wouldn't feel the sting of tears in his eyes at the thought of losing this beautiful man forever.

"Fuck you, Nicky" he muttered as he angrily swiped his arm across his face, hoping beyond hope that he could erase the tears. But it was damn near futile as Nick's last words to him echoed over and over again.

'Tina' blinked up at him from his cell phone as it came to life again, ringing incessantly. He could almost hear her angry words to him, demanding answers of where he was once again. He should have been home an hour ago but instead, he was chasing his heart. Snatching up the phone, he turned it on vibrate, shoving it into his pocket out of habit as he pulled up in front of Nick's place.

He hesitated for only a moment, trying desperately to collect himself, before he hauled ass out of the truck and up to Nick's front porch. His fist pounded furiously at the door four times before he forced himself to step back and wait. And he did wait. He waited through another unanswered phone call before he rang the doorbell and pounded the knocker again.

Nick had come home and crashed immediately in bed, barely managing to remove his clothes before his head hit the pillow. Working a double and his fight with Warrick had really drained him. Sleep thankfully was kind to him, pulling him into a deep and dreamless sleep almost instantly.

That was until an incessant knocking invaded the darkness, pushing it farther and farther away from his grasp. When the doorbell joined the mix, Nick angrily pulled himself out of his bed, not bothering to pull anything over his only sleep pants clad body. He cursed, stumbling over his bag from work in the hallway, bumping into the couch, then finally making it to the door as another round of knocks rained down on the wooden surface.

Pissed beyond belief, Nick hauled open the door well aware of the crazy sight he would make; hair sticking out at all angles, face pinched with anger and sleep, eyes wild, pants hanging low on his hips. He was ready to rip whoever was there a new one, but never had he even considered it would be Warrick, though in hindsight, he should have. The shock barely had time to register before the anger took over once again as he started to slam the door shut.

Warrick stepped partway into the house, blocking the door's intended path and keeping the space between them unoccupied. A growl of frustration left Nick's lips as he dropped his head against the door, a resounding thud echoing through the still house but the pain never registered. He forced most of his anger down, trying to pull himself together in order to get Warrick out of there as fast as possible. When he opened his eyes he avoided looking directly at Warrick, choosing to look over his shoulder instead.

"What do you want?" The words came out harsher than intended, but Nick couldn't deny the trill of pleasure he got out of Warrick's flinch. "Haven't you done enough damage for one day?"

"Nicky, please. Just give me a minute. That's all I ask."

Whether it was the sheer strength with which Warrick pushed against the door, or the visible tears swimming in those emerald depths that persuaded him, Nick wasn't sure. But he did know that a moment later he acquiesced, stepping away from the door to shuffle into the living room. He plopped on the couch, leaning back with false ease, bare feet propped up on the coffee table, hands folded over his bare stomach while he waited patiently for Warrick.

A moment later he came in, hands stuffed in his pockets. Warrick's eyes were dry now, though Nick's trained eyes could pick out the wet streaks on the man's sleeves. Guilt reared it ugly little head, momentarily breaking up the resentment that was building in his chest, before it was tamped down once again.

"Well …" Nick motioned for Warrick to get on with it. And he watched as a blush crept up the other man's cheeks, his eyes turning to the floor as he paced in front of the TV.

"I never meant what I said to you the other day, … when we-" Warrick shrugged his shoulders as if it were no big deal but the tense set to his shoulders gave him away. He awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to bring himself back on track. "So yeah, I just wanted to apologize for that first. You're my best friend and I've always got your back."

Warrick came to sit in front of Nick on the coffee table, his hands clasp together in front of him so as not to give into the temptation to touch. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was going to say next. Then he looked right into Nick's eyes and let him have it.

"You were right. I did make a decision, but its not who you think." His lips curved into a small smile at the open astonishment on Nick's face. "Yeah, but it shouldn't be a shock, man. It's always been you."

Nick forced his jaw shut as he stared at the man before him, not yet willing to believe the words floating around his head. Warrick had chosen him? But he was still wearing his wedding ring. Nick's brow started to crinkle into a frown as he looked back up into Warrick's eyes, the eyes that could never lie to him. And there shining back at him was pure, unadulterated love, and such an honest vulnerability that Nick couldn't hold himself back.

He reached forward, cupping the back of Warrick's neck and pulling him down onto the couch. Nick wrapped one leg around Warrick's hips as his lips claimed those above him. It was warmth and completion and confusion and frustration all wrapped into one war of dominance and teeth, tongues and lips. But it was Nick would came out on top, his lips breaking away from Warrick's to travel down his jaw to his neck. He suckled, his teeth sinking gently into that inviting flesh, marking it and claiming it as his own.

He only pulled back when something began to vibrate against his hip. And it wasn't quite part of Warrick's anatomy. Nick's hand wandered down into the offending pocket before Warrick could get his head wrapped around what was happening. Then all of a sudden Nick was pushing the other body off of him, anger and embarrassment once again fighting for dominance. Anger at being lied to and embarrassment for falling for the lies once again.

Warrick pushed himself up off the couch, his head still spinning from Nick's sudden mood and positional change. That was until he saw what Nick held in his hand. Warrick's still ringing cell phone. And judging by the look on Nick's pale face, that little device had just made him a liar.

'Tina' blinked up at Nick. The one fucking thing that had always been between them. Whether it was a tangible object or just her memory, she had always come between him and Warrick. Angrily he tossed the phone at Warrick, his glare deadly as he spun on his heel and opened the front door wide. He waited until Warrick was on the porch, just turning around with some half-assed apology on his lips, before Nick slammed door shut in his face, chaining it in place.

He snagged his bottle of sleeping pills and a bottle of beer before he fell back on his bed, tears already burn trails down his cheeks from his already closed eyes.

Warrick no longer had the energy to put up a fight. He knew he had blown it and couldn't for the life of him think of how to fix it. He didn't know why he hadn't waited to talk to Nick until he and Tina were over and done with. He didn't know why he had even taken his constantly ringing cell phone in with him. It's because he'd gone in half-cocked like he had a tendency to do when it came to matters concerning Nick.

Begrudgingly, he parked his Jeep in front his house and pulled himself out of the driver's seat. The day's events were quickly catching up with him leaving him feeling suddenly exhausted. He just hoped that Tina was already in bed or getting ready for work if she worked dayshift today. He didn't have the energy to argue or to explain. Not when all he truly wanted to do was be curled up next to Nick on his bed, holding the man in his arms and listening to his soft snores.

Neither of his wishes came true though as he stepped into his house. The body waiting for him definitely wasn't Nick's. And that same body was neither ready to leave nor already sleeping. Tina was wide awake, sitting on the couch with the phone clutched in her hand, eyes blazing as he came into the living room. She didn't even give him a chance to close the door before she rounded on him.

"Where the hell were you?! And why weren't you answering your phone?! I've been trying to call you for over an hour." She tossed the phone onto the coffee table where it bounced ocne before hitting the floor.

It was obvious she was just getting started but Warrick was in no mood. He tossed his bag on the floor by the kitchen counter and toed off his shoes. "Sorry, some shit went down with Nick today at work. I went over to check on him to make sure he was okay," he responded, his voice oddly emotionless considering the subject.

It wasn't a lie … exactly. He had been at Nick's. Shit had gone down between them. And he was checking up on the man. The details weren't what mattered at the moment he decided as he made his way into the bathroom.

Tina was quick to follow. "What about this morning? Where were you then?" Her voice was just as cocky as her stance, leaning against the doorway, arms folded across her chest, chin jutting slightly in the air.

"I got called out to work a scene. Didn't you see the note?"

"And before that? I know you came home way passed your regular shift time before you left again. Where were you?" Tina's voice cracked just the slightest before she regained control. Warrick spun around, incredulous at the sudden hurt in her voice but he never got a word in edge-wise as Tina rounded on him again, this time with renewed anger.

"What the fuck is that on your neck?!" Warrick spared a quick glance in the mirror, heat suddenly flooding him at the sight of the hickey. Though whether the heat was from embarrassment at being caught or the memory of how that mark came to fruition, he wasn't quite sure. He did know, however, that Tina was on the verge of tears though her anger wasn't quite sated just yet. "Who is she?! Who the fuck is she?! I'll tear that bitch apart-"

Warrick held out his hands in sudden defense as Tina rushed towards him, her tiny fists flying in sudden fury. "Whoa! Cut that shit out. Now!" Warrick grabbed both her wrists in one hand, stilling her violent movements, though he made no other move nor said another word. He let her drag in a few deep breaths, calming herself before he loosened his grip and set her free.

"Tina," he dropped his placating hands to his sides and pushed his way passed her into the bedroom. He flopped down on the bed, listening as her footfalls brought her into the room, the bed still between them. "We both knew it was doomed from the beginning." He turned to look at her, this time directly into her eyes so there would be no miscommunication. "I'll always chase tail. You want commitment, to settle down, to have a family. That's not me."

He made no move to comfort her as her tears started to flow. What he said was only partly true. He'd always been the thrill seeker, going from woman to woman until he'd met Nick. That cool Texan attitude had slowed him down quite a bit, inevitably settling him with his cover girlfriend turned wife. No he wanted nothing more than to settle down and let all those dreams of families and happily-ever-afters come true, as long as they were with Nick.

And even though it was his apartment, he made the decision to let her have it if she wished. He would either live with Nick or start fresh. Either way he would leave the passed behind him. He'd made his decision and he was going to live with whatever consequences came his way. He couldn't think of anything else he'd rather do. "I'll be out of here by tomorrow night."

**TBC**

**Continued in #13- Fool**


	5. What Kind of Fool

**What Kind of Fool**

**Fandom/Pairing: **CSI- Nick/Warrick

**Rating: NC-17**

**Prompt: **#13-Fool

**Warnings: **m/m sex, crazy moods, and lots of foul language

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them, just having my fun.

**Summary: **So maybe Nick wasn't ready to deal with all of this yet. Once again his instinct was telling him to run, run far and fast and never look back.

It was early, he knew that. He was also well aware of the fact that he was most likely being ignored. But it didn't alleviate his growing agitation. Warrick pounded on Nick's door again with his right hand while his left dialed Nick's cell.

"Come on, man. Pick up!" After the call rang and went to voicemail for the fifth time, Warrick slammed his phone shut and shoved it back into his jacket pocket.

He'd told Tina he would be out of the apartment before his shift, meaning to pack up some of shit and throw it in the Jeep as he left. But once she had left for work he found he couldn't sleep. After a restless hour of tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling and bitching up a storm, he finally dragged himself out of bed and started packing up his stuff. Favorite CDs, books, pictures, and anything he could need for work was stuffed into bags and boxes and meticulously stacked in his Jeep. The movers, used to fast paced style of Vegas, had come and taken his larger pieces of furniture like his TV and stereo, his piano and his guitars, and his computer to a storage facility.

Then he was alone in the near empty apartment. He had about two hours before shift. Not tired enough to catch a quick nap, he decided to shower and head in. Nothing wrong with catching up on paperwork off the clock, right? At least that had been the plan until he mysteriously found himself pulling up to the curb outside Nick's house.

Knocking again, Warrick hoped that this time words wouldn't fail him when he tried to explain yet another fuck up away. He was stupid. He should have waited, let things simmer down between them, ended things with Tina, then made his move. But no, the always suave Mr. Brown had gone in half-cocked, knowing Nick was stilled riled and completely vulnerable. And it had seriously back-fired.

Growling under his breath, Warrick checked his watch. He'd been standing here for about twenty minutes, pondering his current situation and pounding the door in front of him. Nick wouldn't ignore him for this long; he would have at least come to the door and told him to fuck off. Maybe he was sleeping? No. Nick wasn't that heavy of a sleeper. Shower? No, even if Warrick had come when the man was in the bathroom, Nick would be out by now. Suddenly feeling as if something was dreadfully wrong, Warrick pounded again.

"Nick! Open up man!" Stone cold silence was his answer.

_Okay, calm down man. Think rationally. Think like Nicky. _Warrick glanced back towards the driveway. Maybe Nick had gone for a drive? No, the black Denali was still sitting there. What about a nice long run? He'd never know Nick to run this late in the day. And even though it was an entirely plausible scenario, Warrick once again felt the tendrils of panic creeping around his heart.

"Fuck it," Warrick muttered as he quickly descended the steps of Nick's porch and made quick work of hopping the half fence that encircled the yard. As he moved through the side-yard towards the backdoor, his eyes scanned for any sign that something was wrong; a potted plant out of place, drag marks in the grass, a footprint, something, anything to banish or prove his theory. He spared a glance at the windows, but all the blinds were drawn.

Shaking his head, Warrick pulled up the seventh rock that made up the tiny wall around Nick's flowerbed and fetched the spare key. Jamming it in the lock, Warrick opened the back door and immediately paused. There were no sounds of life in the dark house. Only the hum of the air conditioner as it kicked on once again. Warrick took a tentative step inside. Then another, slowly inching his way into laundry room, edging along the wall so as not to trip over anything, until he finally reached the light switch.

Sighing once light flood the room, Warrick did another scan of the visible house but still saw no signs of life. He tread carefully and quietly through the house, not wanting to startle his friend. But as he made his way from room to room, his anxiousness and concern were becoming overwhelming. Finally, he reached the bedroom and cracked the door open an inch. The first thing to become visible was a lump on top of the bed that he quickly made out to be Nick sprawled. He was about to close the door and head out when something on the nightstand caught his eye. An empty beer bottle and an empty pill container.

"Fuck!" Warrick threw on the lights and ran to the bed. He grabbed Nick the shoulders and gave him a good shake. Nick would never- he couldn't finish the thought. Nick just wouldn't. But Nick wasn't moving; his breathing slow, his muscles slack. "No! Come on, Nicky. Don't do this to me. Please!"

_Nick tried desperately to slow his breathing as he swiped angrily at the tears. He had no one to be pissed at but himself. He'd let Warrick get to him once again. Let the man crawl under his skin, allowed him to flow through his veins like an addictive drug, slowly squeezing the life out of his heart while telling his brain he needed more. It was his fault but it would never happen again, Nick swore. He would make sure of it._

_Rolling over, he caught sight of the beer and his sleeping pills still sitting on his nightstand. When he'd come in before, he hadn't been sure which would be the cure all, but now he knew. Snagging up the beer, Nick pressed the bottle to his lips and down a swig of the cool amber liquid. He leaned back against the headboard and allowed the feeling of the liquid sliding down his throat consume him. But as he raised the bottle for another go, he recalled his promise to himself and Rick all those years ago. He'd never ease the pain by crawling into a bottle. His daddy had done it and where had it gotten him? No where. He still recalled his old man's words after he cleaned himself up: "Nicky, there are no answers at the bottom of a bottle that you can't find when you're sober"._

_Sighing to himself, Nick hauled his body out of bed, snagging the pills in one hand as he headed off towards the bathroom. He dropped both bottles on either side of counter and hunched over the sink. After a moment's hesitation, he picked up the beer and dumped it, watching its contents splash and swirl around the porcelain bowl before sliding down the drain. Relief washed over him as he rinsed out the bottle before filling it partway with water._

_He sat down heavily on the toilet lid as he snagged the pill bottle, dumping the contents all over the counter. Frustration welled up in his chest, but instead of picking up each pill, he snagged two off the counter and down them with his water. He knew they would probably knock him out completely, but at the moment he could careless. Snatching up the empty bottles, he made his way back into the bedroom and flopped on his bed, his eyes already bobbing and heavy with sleep._

"Nicky! Come on man. Wake up. Please." Warrick once again shook his friend in desperation. The man was still showing no signs of consciousness and Warrick knew that every minute was of the essence. But he was torn. Should he call an ambulance and risk the wait? Or should he just drag Nick out to his car and drive him to the ER himself?

But before he could make a decision, the body he was cradling started to move. Warrick watched as Nick slowly swatted away his hands and tried to roll over. A laugh of relief bubbled from his lips as he held Nick still.

"Nicky, can you hear me man? Open your eyes."

Slowly, brown hazy eyes cracked open, squinting against the bright lights. They blinked a few times before they could truly focus. "Rick?" Nick slowly rubbed his eyes, his sluggish brain trying to connect why Warrick was cradling him, tears of relief filling those emerald depths. But before he could connect the dots, Warrick was pulling him up and off the bed.

"Come on Nicky, we gotta get you to a hospital man. Don't now what all ya took, how much you drank. What the fuck were you thinking, huh?" His words were muttered as he worked to pull the dead weight that was Nick's body up.

"Hospital? What the- What the fuck Rick?!" Nick, his brain finally pulled from his medically induced sleep, yanked his arm away from Warrick. His eyes glared daggers at the man as unsteadily sat back down on the bed, dizzy from being woken up suddenly and jerked around. "What the fuck are you doing here man?"

"Now's not the time, Nicky. We gotta go. You-" Warrick trailed off seeing the confusion in his man's eyes. Suddenly he was feeling very foolish.

"What are you yammering about? Why'd you wake me up man?!" Nick glared hard at the man before him, watching as embarrassment suddenly flooded the previously relieved depths.

Warrick didn't answer, but rather let his gaze slide over to the table and the incriminating evidence on display. It only took a moment for the quick minded Texan to figure out what had happened, what Warrick _thought_ had happened. Growling in frustration, Nick stood up, his hands fisting in his hair as he paced for a moment before turning back to Warrick. "Are you kidding me?" he ground out in exasperation. "Why would you- Don't flatter yourself man! I took a sleeping pill, that's all!"

"But it's empty." Warrick swallowed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"The rest are scattered on the bathroom counter. I dropped the bottle and was too damn tired to pick the rest up." Nick tried to tamp down his anger and talk through this. The only way to talk through it quickly was calmly and rationally. And the sooner it was settled, the sooner Warrick was out of his bedroom.

"But the beer-" Warrick bit down on his tongue, stopping the rest of his statement before he could dig himself in deeper. Instinct told him to just hightail it out of there before Nick got to riled. But his heart told him to stay. Nick was being cool about it so far, maybe they could talk through this whole thing and put it behind them.

"I took a sip before I chucked it. Man, you're the one I told about my dad's problem. I promised you I'd never end up there." Nick sighed, flopping heavily on the bed as he ran his hands over his face a few times, trying desperately to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep and recollect himself. "What are you doing here, man?"

Warrick swallowed as Nick finally looked up and met his eyes. "I, uh- I got worried when you didn't answer the door so I used the spare key from your garden. I really need to talk to you, Nick. I know the last few times haven't gone so well, but I really-"

Nick cut him off as he abruptly stood and walked out of the room. Dumbfounded, Warrick hastily followed Nick into the kitchen where the man was slamming cabinets and banging glass around. So maybe Nick wasn't ready to deal with all of this yet. Once again his instinct was telling him to run, run far and fast and never look back. But when he started to hold his hands up in surrender something caught his eye. Or rather it was what didn't catch his eye. No ring. He'd placed it on Tina's nightstand before he'd walked out of the apartment for the last time. A smile tugged at his lips.

No, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

He walked up behind Nick and placed his hands on the angry man's shoulders. "Come on, man. Just hear me out, okay? Five minutes to explain it all. Then I'll up and leave if that's what you want, okay?" He felt the tense muscles under his hands and started to gently knead them. When he didn't get a response, Warrick gently placed a kiss at the nape of Nick's neck before he started to speak.

"I'll admit. What happened before was pretty shitty. I hadn't planned on it going like that. I'm sorry."

"Oh yeah? What, you planned on getting a little ass before breaking the news that you and Tina were staying together?" Nick pulled away from Warrick and moved off to the refrigerator, feigning a search for food while Warrick continued on with his explanation.

"No. What I said to you before was the truth. At least it was mostly true." He flinched at the reaction to his words. Nick slammed the fridge door and spun around on his heel.

"You're not making this any better! Say what you have to say then get the hell out of my house!" Nick walked over to the counter, perching himself on a stool while Warrick fumbled to recollect his thoughts.

"Okay, that sounded bad. What I meant was that I chose you, I just hadn't ended it with Tina yet. I wanted so badly to let you know that I didn't think about how it would go over. Nor did I think about that fact that she'd been callin' me all day and I had been ignoring her. She's the last thing I'm thinkin' about when I'm with you, Nicky. I want you and just you. Tina's history."

Silence. Nick's face was blank but behind the neutral expression Warrick could see the wheels turning. Should Nick believe him and risk his heart again? Or should he play it safe, staying with anger and not falling in love again? Finally after what seemed an eternity, Nick slid off the stool and started to advance on Warrick, an unidentifiable spark in his eyes. "Why the fuck should I believe you?" Nick's finger slammed into Warrick's chest as he backed the taller man up a few steps. "You've lied to me, manipulated me, and hurt me before. How can I believe you now? Why should I believe you?!"

Warrick grabbed Nick's wrist not intending damage but hard enough to let Nick know he was serious. "Because it's really over this time man. I gave her the apartment and everything. We're done. The only thing left is the divorce papers. She's the past. I want you to be the future."

Nick growled low in his throat as he tugged his arm free of Warrick's grip, rubbing at the red marks there. He gave Warrick one hard look before he turned on his heel and stalked out of the kitchen. He didn't know where he was headed but got to the front door and had it unlocked before Warrick was even out of the kitchen. Ignoring the other man's protests, Nick hauled open the front door but froze in his tracks.

There sitting in front of his house was Warrick's Jeep packed with boxes and bags. Even the front passenger seat was occupied by what Nick knew as Warrick's work duffle and his laptop. He shook his head slightly, his jaw hanging open, his heart beating heavily in his chest at the prospect that maybe this time Warrick was telling the truth. Before he could turn around he felt two arms slide around his bare waist, a back pressed up against him, and warm breath tickling his ear. He tried to turn around to meet Warrick face to face, but he was held tight against the other man.

"Shhh. No more words, Nicky. They're what got us here in the first place. Trust you instincts. Just …" Warrick ran his hands up and down Nick's sides, "feel."

Nick gave into the urge and leaned back into the touch. He closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and … felt. He felt Warrick's heart beating between his shoulder blades; felt his abs flex with each inhale and exhale; felt that breath puff out over his neck sending shivers up and down his spine; he felt Warrick's hands as they trailed up and down his sides, rubbing over his chest and down his stomach before starting the cycle again. But it was what he didn't feel that made the difference.

His eyes snapped open as he quickly turned around in Warrick's arms. He didn't say anything, just stared up into that smiling face, into those eyes that couldn't lie. His lips moved and air rushed out of his lungs, but no words came forth. Only tears as he grabbed Warrick's left hand and brought it close. No more ring. No more cold accusing gleam. No more wishful thinking. No more Tina.

A laughed bubbled from his lips as Warrick's left thumb brushed over his cheeks, wiping away the tears. "I'm sorry Nicky. I know I've been a fool these passed few days. I've jerked you around so much, I know why you didn't believe me. But hear me now babe and know I'm tellin' ya the truth. I love you. And you're the one I wanna be with. Will ya have me?" Warrick smiled but inside he was anxious. Though he knew he shouldn't be by the look on Nick's face.

"Damn straight I will." Nick muttered, but his words were cut off mid-sentence as Warrick's lips descended on his. And that was all he was aware of suddenly. Not the fact that they were standing in his open doorway, or the fact that they were moving through the house, bumping into furniture along the way. No he was only aware of the lips on his, the tongue sliding against his, and the deliciously slow friction against his already straining erection.

At least that was all he was aware of until the bed bumped the back of his legs. Then he was falling back onto the soft mattress, his sweatpants and boxers mysteriously stayed on the floor though. He couldn't help the laugh the emerged when Warrick all but pounced on him, his clothes shed somewhere along the way. Then Warrick's lips were on his neck, suckling and worrying ever so slightly with his teeth while his fingers ran up and down Nick's ribs, tickling and teasing as they went. Nick gasped out a laugh even as strained up into Warrick's touch.

"Please, Rick." He dug his fingers in Warrick's hair and pulled him back up for a kiss. The man's fingers ceased their tickling in favor of running up and down Nick's thighs, each time moving a little further inward until they were spreading Nick's legs apart. Warrick's lips moved down as well, butterflying kisses over his chest and stomach, nuzzling the fold of muscle down the tantalizing trail from his hip down to his groin. Placing a soft kiss at the end of one trail, he moved away to follow the other.

"Oh god. Rick, come on! Please. Do something." Nick urged his hips closer to Warrick's touch and was nearly screaming in relief when Warrick didn't pull away, but rather wrapped one hand around the straining erection. Nick moaned, enjoying the needed friction, but he wanted more. He wanted Warrick inside him. Fuck the foreplay, the passed two days had been more torturous than anything else he'd endured. He needed Rick and he needed him now. Hard and fast.

"Fuck, Warrick. If you don't … get inside me right … now," Nick's threat was cut off by two lips encircling his cock. A long, low hiss escaped as Warrick took all of him in, humming softly to himself as he went. And while one hand held Nick's hips down to the bed, the other was already lubed and seeking entrance. He was just getting started with two fingers when Nick pulled his head up.

"Now!" And Warrick wasn't about to protest. He never wanted to hurt Nick, but he knew how much his man could take. And right now they both wanted it all.

With a condom on, Warrick slid home in one long, slow thrust. He could feel Nick's impatience, but he could also feel Nick's discomfort so he was content to wait a moment. Once the tight passage around him relaxed a bit and he felt confident Nick wasn't in pain, Warrick gripped the man's hips and only gave a quick warning smile before he pulled out and plunged back in.

"Fuck," was the only coherent thing Nick muttered before the word tapered off into a low moan. Nick's head slammed back into the pillows, his eyes closed. The cords of his neck, the way his forearms bulged from gripping the sheets, the ripple and play of his abs and quads as they moved in one, it was all intoxicating to Warrick. And he wanted so badly to reached down and taste them, to feel the power beneath that tanned skin, but he knew it would be his undoing. And he wasn't content to let go just yet.

Nick was barely aware of anything but the man inside him and the pleasure induced fireworks erupting behind his eyes. Each stroke caused another set to burst. He gasped for breath, but soon realized that oxygen was secondary at the moment. His primary focus was on his straining, leaking cock that begged for attention. But try as he might, he couldn't release his grip on the sheets. He was on sensory overload, feeling like he was a second away from explosion but the clock was ticking too slowly.

And then it happened. Warrick's strong hand released its death-grip on Nick's hip and slowly curled around Nick's cock. One pull and Nick was screaming over the edge in mind-numbing release. His body tightened, his muscles pulled taught like a cord about to snap, his toes curling. Warrick was afraid Nick would break in two but that fear was short lived as a moment later, he plummeted over his peak and into darkness.

When he cracked open his eyes, he was lying sprawled out across a totally limp and sated Nick. He felt like jelly, his legs just regaining feeling from the aftershocks. And judging by the state of Nick beneath him, eyes nearly rolled back in his head, Warrick didn't think he'd be moving anytime too soon. So he gently pulled out, grabbed the nearest article of clothing and gently cleaned them off before he pulled Nick in his arms and under the covers. The last thing he was aware of before he fell into the welcoming darkness was Nick's hand entwining with his own.

hr 

Nick slowly awoke, burying his face in the pillow with a smile on his face. With as relaxed as his body was, he thought it might be near impossible to move. He chuckled and rolled over only to find an empty bed. For a moment he thought he might have imagined what had happened, but judging by the way certain parts of his anatomy were feeling, he knew it wasn't just a fantasy. It had been real and Warrick had played him again.

He was about to go on a rampage when he heard a muffled voice coming from outside his closed door. Curiosity peaked, Nick pulled the covers back and crept to the door, opening it only enough for him to peek out. There, standing in his living room was a naked Warrick, pacing back and forth behind the couch on his cell phone. For a moment, Nick was mad that his lover was out of bed and on the phone. That was until he heard the next words out of his lover's mouth.

"Yeah, Griss. Both me and Nick will be out sick today. Must've been something we ate at the diner…Yeah, I came to check on him cause I knew he wasn't feelin' to hot all day… Stomach bug or food poisoning, not sure right now … Tomorrow? Uh, yeah probably… Yeah, okay. I'll pass it along…Uh-huh. You got it. Later." Warrick ended the call and turned to see Nick standing in the doorway, a huge ass grin plastered on his face.

"Stomach bug, huh?" Nick grinned cheekily as Warrick pulled him close and down onto the bed.

"Yeah, well it was either that, or I tell him I just fucked your brains out and we're both incapable of higher-level functions." Warrick kissed Nick's neck, nuzzling the soft skin before letting out a deep sigh. There were things they needed to sort out and lost time to make up for, but at the moment Warrick was just content to lay in bed, his arms wrapped tightly around Nick, their hands intertwined, and just breathe.

"Love ya, Rick" Nick muttered sleepily.

"Love ya too, Nicky."

**FIN**


End file.
